Remus Figures It Out
by force42
Summary: Hung over and recovering from the full moon, Remus lets his thoughts wander to the friends he lost. For the first time in four years, he is thinking clearly.


**Remus Figures It Out**

**Summary:** Hung over and recovering from the full moon, Remus lets his thoughts wander to the friends he lost. For the first time in four years, he is thinking clearly.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything. Just borrowing J.K.'s characters. I promise to return them mostly intact.

**Warnings: **Mentions of alcohol abuse.

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Remus Lupin blinked groggily. There was light shining through his eyelids. It felt like sunlight. Where would sunlight be coming from? As awareness slowly returned to Remus, he realized he was lying naked sprawled in overgrown grass. Turning his head to the side, he could see the open door of his root cellar.

Remus rolled onto his side and grimaced. Last night had been a full moon. His limbs felt like they were on fire from the transformation and his head was pounding, though that may have been the hangover. He dimly wondered if being drunk in werewolf form was anything like being drunk in animagus form. Sirius had said it was an…interesting…experience. Sirius. Sirius bloody Black who would rot in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable excuse for a life.

Remus pulled himself to his hands and knees, not trusting his balance on two legs, and made his way through the overgrown grass towards the back door of the cottage. Reaching the door, he pulled himself up using the door frame, opened the door, and staggered inside, leaning heavily on the door frame and then the wall for support.

Feeling slightly steadier, he crossed the open floor of the small sitting area and collapsed onto the overstuffed couch. The comfortable, threadbare, red couch reminded him of the Gryffindor common room and a happier, simpler time in his life. He suspected this particular couch might have once lived in the Gryffindor common room. He wouldn't put it past James and Sirius to have taken one of the Gryffindor couches when they made this cottage for him.

His cottage. It had been a graduation gift from James, Sirius, and Peter. With Voldemort terrorizing the nation, anything or anyone remotely dark was suspect. Anti-werewolf sentiments were running high, and a number of new laws had been passed that restricted werewolf rights. James had explained that they wanted to make sure Remus always had a safe place to go for his monthly transformation. In school, he had been the responsible one, always taking care of them; it was their turn to take care of him. No matter what happened in Britain, here, he would always be safe.

They had spent their holiday breaks for two years working on it: building it, warding the root cellar, the cottage, and the grounds, weaving enchantments that would make sure he was in the root cellar for his transformations no matter what state he was in, somehow making sure his supply of food and drink would never run out. In retrospect, maybe the endless supply of alcohol had been a bad idea. He glanced over to the calendar stuck to the wall. October 29. In another two days would be the fourth anniversary of James and Lily's deaths. Another six days after that would be the nearly forgotten anniversary of Peter's death. He'd been drinking almost nonstop for the past week.

Not that he drank much less any other time of year. The alcohol induced a nice mental static. It was less painful to suffer a hangover than think of James, Lily, and Peter while sober.

James, Lily, and Peter. All good people. Too many good people died in the war. Half the Order was dead when it was over. James and Lily were the last two deaths of the official war. It ended that Halloween night in 1981 when little Harry, by some miracle, destroyed Voldemort. Remus was quite sure Lily had done something, found some ancient magic, that saved Harry and in the process vanquished the Dark Lord. Perhaps Lily was the power the Dark Lord knew not from the prophecy Remus was not supposed to know about.

Harry. A child of prophecy. Remus hoped that wherever the boy was, he was happy. Children of prophecy tended to have rather rotten lives. He was, what, four? No. He was five now. If it were not for Harry, Remus was sure he would be dead by now. As the last of the Marauders, it was his responsibility to make sure Harry carried on the Marauder spirit for another generation of Hogwarts students. James would never forgive him if he failed in this mission. And Lily would probably kill him if he succeeded. He would have to remember to instruct Harry in how not to get caught in his next letter.

On the rare occasions he saw Dumbledore, he always asked after Harry and was always assured that Harry was safe, happy, and healthy. Like the previous three years, he sent Harry a birthday gift and a letter, forwarded through Dumbledore. Like the previous three years, he was refused when he asked to visit Harry to personally deliver the gift. He didn't blame Dumbledore for the refusal; he was a wreck. Harry didn't need to see what a mess he was in the wake of his friends' deaths. The vague memory of Uncle Moony and photos of the young Marauders were much better than the real Uncle Moony.

Maybe if Peter had lived, it would have been different. He wouldn't have gone off on a bender that had lasted nearly four years and counting. They would be allowed to see Harry and tell him stories about the Marauders. He missed Peter almost more than he missed James.

Poor, stupid, little Peter. His death was completely unnecessary. If he'd just left Sirius to the aurors, he'd still be alive. Then again, if Remus hadn't been with that Irish werewolf pack, trying to negotiate their neutrality in the wizards' conflict and out of contact with the Order, only to return two days after Peter's death, he'd probably be dead as well. Then again, if he'd gone with Peter to confront Sirius, together they might have stood a better chance of surviving the encounter.

Remus still could not understand why Sirius had blown up the entire street in order to kill Peter. It was a silly detail, he knew. Nevertheless, it bothered him. Remus had wondered, time, and time again, why Sirius would blow up an entire street full of muggles to kill Peter. Sirius had always been fond of showmanship and such a display was certainly a spectacle. He killed thirteen muggles and injured nearly thirty more. Maybe his time with the Death Eaters had changed him. Sirius had never been Marked, so it was impossible to know how long he had been a Death Eater. Remus had been rather impressed that the Unspeakables had found a means of determining the age of a Mark. He wondered how many other unmarked followers Voldemort had. How many had never been caught? So many names came up in the trials following that horrible Halloween. Sirius's name was never among them. How many others escaped detection simply because their comrades never betrayed them?

Sirius must have known he would be caught. When James and Lily went under the Fidelus after an attack in August 1981 that had been an extremely close call, everyone knew that Sirius was their Secret Keeper. Was that why he blew up all those muggles? One last big spectacle before they caught him and sent him to Azkaban? It was a rather stupid thing to do, really. If he'd kept his head down and surrendered himself quietly, he could have bought his way out. Lucius Malfoy, among others, did it. There was someone he'd love to bite. The Blacks were even richer than the Malfoys. Bellatrix was beyond hope, and, come to think of it, seemed delighted by the idea of languishing in Azkaban, waiting for her Lord to come back and save her. Sirius might have managed it with a little guidance from some of his associates.

Maybe he knew that the second he got out, Remus and Peter would kill him. They wouldn't be the only ones out for his blood. That would have been a brilliant move on Sirius's part; do something so horrible and so public he'd be guaranteed a cell in Azkaban. If he had a way to resist the effects of the Dementors, Azkaban would effectively be protective custody. It was also an incredibly stupid plan. Remus knew for a fact that the Blacks owned at least one unplottable island somewhere sunny. The Marauders had spent a week there one summer. Why would Sirius go to Azkaban when he could be lying on a tropical beach?

Then again, Sirius wasn't the most logical of the Marauders. If that had been his plan, though, why wait until Peter confronted him? In the days following Voldemort's obliteration, the Death Eaters were laying waste to as much of magical and muggle England as they could, the dramatic coda to their symphony of destruction.

Maybe it was just bad luck that Peter had found Sirius when he did. If Sirius's aim had been mass destruction, rather than targeting Peter specifically, however, Peter should have been able to survive the blast. In sixth year, they had brewed a Detonation Draught to make their own prank firecrackers. Peter had dropped one of the flasks of the finished potion. The fact that he could transform into a rat in less than a second was the only thing that saved him. Wormtail had been flung a good thirty feet by the resulting explosion, but Peter had walked away with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises.

If it were not for the fact that Peter's finger had been found at the scene, Remus would still be holding onto the hope that Peter had survived. Remus wondered, not for the first time, why the biggest chunk of Peter that could be found was his finger. He'd heard that the muggles had put together thirteen mostly complete bodies to return to the families of those killed. Muggles were remarkably good at that sort of thing, and they couldn't use magic to isolate the unique magical signature on all the parts of a single person. Had Sirius obliterated Peter first, then blown up the street for good measure? Even if that was the case, more of Peter should have been left behind. Aurors _could_ track down body parts down to blood smears by magical signature; that was probably how they found the finger in the wreckage. Come to think of it, the _only_ piece of Peter they found was his finger. Where was the rest of him?

Remus did not like where his thoughts were taking him. He had seen Peter survive an explosion by transforming into Wormtail. Peter had enough time between the casting of the curse and the explosion reaching him to transform. Sirius would know that Peter would most likely be able to survive the blast. The only part of Peter found at the scene was his finger.

Peter had gone to confront the traitor Sirius Black and had gotten himself blown up. Everyone knew that. Peter even received a posthumous Order of Merlin for his stupidity. Everyone knew that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, even before they were killed. Everyone knew it. Everyone expected it. They knew that James and Sirius had been best friends since childhood. Of course Sirius would be their Secret Keeper.

The Fidelus Charm was not as unknown as Dumbledore led most of the Order to believe when he 'rediscovered' it. Most of the ancient and noble families knew about it, but didn't use it because it was incredibly inconvenient, and there was no point to it when practically everyone knew the secret. Only those truly intent on hiding a place so only a select few could find it ever used the spell.

When the Potters appeared to have completely vanished, it took all of two days to deduce that they were under a Fidelus Charm, and another thirty minutes to deduce that Sirius Black was their Secret Keeper. Overall, it was rather obvious, and an Incredibly Bad Plan. If Sirius was already a Death Eater when he was made Secret Keeper, the only reason the Potters survived those two months in their sanctuary in Godric's Hollow was that Voldemort liked to save big events for significant days, such as Halloween, and killing a Child of Prophecy was a Very Big Event.

If Remus hadn't been in Ireland with the werewolves when all of this planning was taking place, he would have pointed out to the rest of the Marauders that it was an incredibly obvious and stupid plan. If everyone would immediately know that Sirius Black would be their Secret Keeper, why make him their Secret Keeper? Remus would have suggested that they choose a different Secret Keeper, let everyone assume Sirius was the Secret Keeper, then hide the real Secret Keeper somewhere else, preferably out of the country. If everyone _knew_, that Sirius Black was the Potters' Secret Keeper, who would suspect when shy little Peter Pettigrew disappeared that the Secret had just disappeared with him?

Oh god.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh GOD!

It was a brilliant plan, or at least not a patently stupid one, if not for the minor detail that the spy they were searching for within the Order's ranks was none other than their pet rat. It was rather fitting, really, that Sirius was the loyal mutt and Peter was the rat. What did that make him? Clearly, he was an idiot for not catching on sooner.

With the correct set of starting conditions and sufficient prior knowledge, the sequence of events was incredibly obvious and logical. The Potters are killed. Suspicion immediately falls onto Sirius, their supposed Secret Keeper. Sirius tracks down Peter in order to capture him and clear his name so he can take custody of Harry, who is his first priority. Sirius finds Peter. Peter accuses Sirius of betraying Lily and James, then cuts off his own finger and blows up the street. In the resulting chaos, he transforms into Wormtail and sneaks away, framing Sirius for his murder. Sirius has a nervous breakdown, is arrested, and is thrown into Azkaban without a trial because everyone is sure that he's guilty.

Sirius, loyal mutt that he was, was just as much of an idiot for _not telling anyone_ before he went after Peter. Maybe he had. It wouldn't have mattered after he appeared to have blown up a streetful of muggles. Everyone saw what they wanted to see. Everyone saw what they expected to see.

Sirius was once again a victim of his family name. It was far more logical for a Black to live up to the family name than for timid, cowardly Peter Pettigrew to be a traitor. Four years. And he was the first to see the truth. He was the only one who could.

Remus rolled off the couch and shakily made his way to the bath, each step growing steadier. He needed a hot shower and a good night's sleep. He had a rat to catch.

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A/N: The full moon in October 1985 was on the 28th. The site http*://*home.*hiwaay.*net*/~krcool*/Astro*/moon*/fullmoon.*htm (remove *s to navigate to site) lists all the full moons from 1900 to 2100.


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